


until morning

by nilchance



Series: lest ye be judged [2]
Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Asgore has the patient of a goddamn saint, Family Fluff, Gen, Night Terrors, Papyrus Has Issues, Sans Has Issues, set in year six of lest ye be judged
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-21
Updated: 2017-11-21
Packaged: 2019-02-04 22:54:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,165
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12781389
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nilchance/pseuds/nilchance
Summary: "Maybe skeletons are just allergic to sleep?" Papyrus asks. "So I don't have to stare at the ceiling for six hours doing nothing? Please?"





	until morning

"You need your sleep," Asgore says. Sans has to give the guy credit; he doesn't sound frustrated. It's like he hasn't had this same argument with Papyrus every night for the last week.

It's late. Papyrus is following the letter of the law; he's in bed and under the covers. But a cup of warm milk and a bedtime story into the game, he's is still wide awake and bright-eyed. He asks in a very reasonable tone, "How do you know?"

That's a new one. Asgore blinks. "How do I know that you have to sleep?"

"Yes!" Papyrus says. "I haven't tried not sleeping! Maybe I have a superpower. Uncle Gaster says to test everything."

Asgore glances at Sans for help, which gets any credit he earned officially retracted. Sans is not getting involved in this. For one thing, if he tries to back Asgore up, Papyrus is just going to double down on stubbornness. (Plus Asgore might get ideas on where Sans stands, which: no. Absolutely fucking not. Sans is always gonna be on Papyrus’s side.) For another, he's got homework. On top of the normal stuff from his tutors, Gaster's been giving him scientific papers from the dump to read and critique. There are essays involved. "Don't look at me. I'm biased, apparently."

"He has sleep toxicity," Papyrus says. "It's tragic."

"In the pockets of Big Sleep," Sans says.

"I don't judge," Papyrus says kindly.

Sans snorts.

"Ah." Asgore sits carefully on the edge of Papyrus's bed, which creaks for mercy. "You know, Gaster has conducted some, er, experiments on sleep deprivation. They usually end with him falling over."

"Maybe I should try it." Papyrus shifts closer to Asgore, who puts a careful arm around him. "I think you're supposed to run experiments over and over to make sure they still work. Brother, is that a nerd fact?"

"Replicating the results," Sans says. "Believe me, G keeps trying that experiment plenty enough for everybody."

Papyrus narrows his eyes, getting that stubborn set to his jaw. There are dark circles under his eyes to rival Gaster's. Before Papyrus can say anything, Asgore asks, "Does this have to do with your night terrors, little one?"

They've been worse lately, since Asgore quietly signed the adoption papers. Papyrus is so happy about it, but apparently some quiet part of him is as worried as Sans is. Two night terrors in the last week. Hard to sleep through Papyrus screaming, full-throated and raw, like somebody's tearing his soul out. At this point, Sans can get across the room to shake him awake with his eyes still closed.

Hell, half the time Papyrus just blinks a couple times, looks Sans in the face, goes, "Oh," and falls back into a dead sleep for the rest of the night. Asgore still comes to check on them every time, although usually it's over by the time he gets there.

"Oh, those silly things," Papyrus says breezily. His eyes dart sideways. Sans got all the talent for lying in their family. "No. I don't even remember them, really."

Asgore nods. "I'm glad to hear it. Of course, no one could blame you if you were having a hard time."

"Hypothetically," Papyrus adds.

"Hypothetically, yes."

"I'll sit quietly," Papyrus says, having never sat quietly in his entire life. "Besides, Sans is up most of the night reading science papers, so I'm not keeping him up."

When Asgore gives Sans a look, Sans widens his eyes. "I dunno what he's talking about, big guy. Must be the sleep deprivation."

"Maybe skeletons are just allergic to sleep?" Papyrus asks. "So I don't have to stare at the ceiling for six hours instead of reading a book? Please?"

Asgore's expression softens. "It's not a punishment, dear."

Papyrus is the good kid. He's the one who goes looking for hugs, who wants Asgore's approval, who Asgore can dote on and call 'dear' and 'little one' and 'son'. But Papyrus is messed up in his own ways. (And whose fault is that?) Even before factoring in the screaming night terrors and the avoiding sleep until he crashes, he'll break his own back to be what people want. He'll only really argue with Sans; adoption or not, Sans is still the one person he figures won't leave him. The whole sleep thing must be eating at him for him to fight Asgore on it.

"Hey, uh," Sans says, "he's right about not keeping me up. It's cool."

Papyrus perks up. "See? He didn't even notice. He's too busy science-ing."

"There's no science-ing," Sans says. The last thing he needs is for Asgore to get nosy about his sleep habits too. If he's gonna ever get on Gaster's level, he has a lot of work to do. "I can sleep through anything. He could set a firework off in here for all I care."

"Those were Undyne's and I had nothing to do with it," Papyrus says quickly. "I'll just read!"

Asgore folds. There's no doubt in Sans's mind that when the kids were alive, their mom was the disciplinarian. "All right, gentlemen. You drive a hard bargain. Here's what I propose. Papyrus, you close your eyes and try to sleep for 15 minutes. If it doesn't work, you can get back out of bed for another hour, and then try again. Does that sound fair?"

Papyrus gives Sans a sidelong look. He knows Sans is the rules lawyer around here, skating past any hard line Asgore might try to set. Sans could point out that the fact that it’s an opening offer, not a final decision. There's plenty of room to negotiate. Instead he shrugs, twirling the pencil between his fingers. "Better than nothing, right?"

"And your brother will go to bed at a reasonable hour so he doesn't keep you up," Asgore adds.

Sans stops twirling the pencil. Narrows his eyes. Asgore looks at him, nervous but not backing down.

He also didn't define 'reasonable hour.' Rookie mistake.

Then again, if Papyrus actually manages to sleep for once, Sans really should just let him crash. He doesn't think reading by the nightlight is gonna keep Papyrus up, but--

Sneaky. Clearly Sans has been a good influence.

"Heh." Sans relaxes and grins at Papyrus. "Sure, yeah. I'm not gonna complain about getting to sleep more. That work for you, buddy?"

"I suppose that's acceptable." Papyrus turns and offers Asgore his hand. Asgore shakes it solemnly. There is a sad lack of whoopee cushions involved. With that done, Papyrus flings himself backward onto the bed and lays there like a board. "Do we have watches to synchronize? This seems like a problem."

Sans pulls his phone out of his pocket. Holds it up. “Got it covered. You don’t gotta go half-clocked.”

"Good! Because minutes are tricky and will get away if you don't watch them!"

"That relativity'll get you every time," Sans agrees.

Papyrus squints at him. "Boring me to sleep didn't work the last three times. Don't try it now. You--" He facepalms. “Ugh, I just noticed the pun.”

Asgore tugs the blankets back up over Papyrus. Smooths them flat. "Close your eyes, dear. Do you mind if I sit with you awhile?"

Papyrus looks at him with a trust there that makes Sans decide to look at anything else instead. Papyrus says, voice small, "That'd be nice."

A dry, rustling sound, like a furred hand petting a bony skull. The bed creaks as Asgore rearranges himself to be more comfortable. "Shall I read to you?"

Of course Papyrus says yes.

Asgore has a king's voice, deep and comfortably rumbly. Sans has never heard him raise it, but it'd probably make the walls shake. It shouldn't fit in a kid's bedroom. He sounds like he's just some guy with a garden and kids (kid) (singular kid) who burns pies and says 'darn' when he stubs his toe.

So, y'know, at least the dead kids got to hear a nice, comforting voice from the guy who was murdering them.

Sans has dibs on Fluffy Bunny for eternity, or at least until Papyrus outgrows it. Asgore isn't stupid enough to even offer. He reads a puzzle manual instead. It's dry, the history of puzzles in the Underground and famous puzzle makers and cultural heritage and blah blah blah. It's the kind of thing Papyrus loves. Sans can only hear him squirming and sighing impatiently for the first couple minutes before it captures his attention. The sound of Asgore petting his head continues. 

In unrelated news, Sans reads a page of the paper three times and absorbs exactly none of it. He checks his phone. It's been twenty minutes. He glances over at the other bed. Papyrus's eyes are still closed. Sans puts his phone down and goes back to trying to stare a hole through 'The Strange Theory of Light and Matter.'

Asgore keeps reading. Papyrus's questions (because of course Papyrus is full of questions, like 'why?' and 'did you know them? were they nice?' and 'what happened to the puzzle when they died?') slow down. Then they stop coming. Asgore still keeps reading, steady, like he plans to go on like that forever. Just talking about puzzles made by people who are dust. Just...

The pencil slips out of Sans's fingers. Sans jerks back awake and looks sharply at Asgore, who is very carefully not looking at him. The corners of Asgore's mouth are twitching.

Somehow Sans missed it when Papyrus started snoring, the way he does when he's really crashed out and might do something crazy like sleep six hours straight. As if he just happened to notice the time, Asgore closes the book and sets it on the floor. His expression when he looks down at Papyrus makes Sans's soul twist.

Rubbing the back of his neck, Sans looks away. Quiet, he says, "Uh, hey." Then he gives Asgore a thumbs up, which is a little awkward when he's trying hard not to make eye contact. "Good job."

Asgore huffs a laugh. Just as quiet, he says, "I've had practice. But thank you."

When Asgore gets up, the bed creaks again, long and pitiful. They both freeze, staring at Papyrus like he's a bomb about to go off. Papyrus keeps snoring. They relax.

Asgore sighs. "I worry about him."

"Yeah." It's just there and always has been. Eat, sleep, pun, worry about Papyrus. He redirects his eyes to the paper. "But hey, he's got us."

Asgore inhales like he just cut himself on something hidden. He doesn't move. When Sans glances up, Asgore is giving him the same soft look he gives Papyrus, like Sans is something good too. Funny how Asgore can stare right at Sans and not even see him at all.

Sans says, "Don't make it weird."

"Oh. Yes. I'm sorry." Asgore rubs a hand over his mouth, not quite getting rid of his smile. "There. Perfectly normal."

There's a moment where he thinks Asgore is going to push his luck. Maybe try to talk about feelings or ask Sans to keep him company in the living room instead of hiding in here. He can see that Asgore wants to reach out. But Asgore only inclines his head and says, "Don't stay up too late, please. I worry about you too, you know."

Sans looks at his big, dumb, sweet face and thinks of six dead kids. 

"Whatever you say, your highness,” he says. A dismissal. A door slammed in Asgore's face. Eventually Asgore will learn not to knock.

Sure he will.

He goes back to staring at his paper. After a long few seconds, Asgore turns off the light, leaving the nightlight on for Sans to read by. Then Asgore leaves the room, closing the door behind him as quiet as he can. His footsteps shuffle down the hall until all Sans can hear is his brother, sleeping peacefully for the first time in weeks. Trusting. Safe.

Murderer or not, Asgore's never laid a hand on a monster. He won't even fight back when Undyne tries to take him down, just dodges out of the way. Sans is always going to worry about it, because he’s been wrong before, but he thinks Asgore would rip his own soul out before he hurt Undyne or Papyrus. Or Sans. It makes it harder to remind himself of what Asgore is.

Us. That had been a mistake. It's true, yeah, but he doesn't need to give Asgore ideas about how things work around here. Papyrus needs a dad. Papyrus needs all the people who love him that he can get. Fuck knows he deserves it. But Sans has already got everything he needs, and one of them needs to stay objective just in case. Anything else is asking for it.

Still. He'd said 'us'.

And Asgore had looked so happy.

Sans buries his face in his hands and says into them, muffled, "You're an idiot, Dreemurr."

He can't tell if he's talking to Asgore or himself.


End file.
